Careful Where You Go
by Kay the Cricketed
Summary: [Drabble, character death]  Donatello considers his brother's newest scar.  Leonardo says a lot of things, none of them heard, but all of them taken gratefully.


_Careful Where You Go_

By Kay

Disclaimer: Don't own TMNT. All attempts to steal it were thwarted. Curse you, Eastman and Laird and your petty security team!

Author's Notes: Drabble, warning for character death. There is also a reference to the Volume Four comic books; you only need to know that there is a scene in which Don leaves the lair to go exploring in the jungle. Leo, worrying as usual, asks him to be careful as Don is packing, and Don hugs his brother comfortingly and reassures him that he'll be back safely.

Hope you enjoy. Thank you so much for all you guys' encouragement!

* * *

His brother sounds like he's dying.

Far away, connecting briefly like a soft spark in the dimness, Don realizes that this is ridiculous. The worry coursing through him is unnecessary. Leo is fine. _Fine_. Leo is in full capacity of his airways, his limbs are intact—there's a fine scratch down the line of his collarbone that may scar, but it's inconsequential. Don would like to check again, though, just to make sure. He knows the itching insistence to ascertain his brother's state of being is only second-guessing, normally untrue, and the doubt only comes from the way Leo inhales like he's eating glass and says Don's name like he's… like it's…

Oh. Of course he's okay. Don is the one that's dying, after all.

He feels warmth bubble out of his mouth and down into the creases joining his shoulder and neck. He's been trying to say something, but it's not really working. Most of his world is made up of a slick wash of colors, blurring in and out. He can feel Leo's fingers pressed against his pulse (though he can't hear it), his cheek (brief, a comfort), and then over the wound. His stomach. He has a feeling of displacement; it's not his belly. Stupid. It'd been stupid. Plastron is bone, but bone breaks before all sorts of things if given the proper incentive.

Don tries to map out the trajectory involved, the mathematical equations… force, momentum, propulsion. Numbers. The gleam of metal amongst the shadows of the roof. Leo turning to smile at him, a smile in his eyes. He can't work out the answer, though. It falls out of his brain and into his lap. It's going to leave a scar on Leo, that thin line of maroon against green, and Don finds himself instead thinking about that.

Not much he can do about it now.

Leo is whispering and it's like the Buddhist chants they've grown into, but rougher now, hewn with desperation. It's not like Leo to forget the words. Don wishes he could correct him. A hot breath against his face, and for a bizarre moment Don believes Leo means to bless him or something, to peck his forehead, but isn't sure why he thinks that. A fragment of a memory… children, one coughing and the other toting a book too large for his hands, in a bedroom that smells like sick. They'd always learned from television. _'A kiss to make it better.'_

Donny is too old for that sort of thing now. He opens his mouth to tell Leo so, but the low, airy whine that escapes is accidental. It doesn't matter. Leo has only inched in closer, urgently speaking into his ear.

Leo is telling him to hold on, isn't he? Or maybe that he loves him. Don tries to focus, intent on the movement of teeth and mouth and the corners that frown in concern too often. He can't read them from this close. Maybe Leo isn't saying anything he doesn't already know, but Don hates to take the chance of missing out on learning something new.

He reaches up, or at least thinks he does, and tries to trace the mark. His mark. Right into the soft dipping below the clavicle, where Leo's sticky blood still pools. _'Gauze and Ibprofen. Sometimes it's better to fix things in the field…'_ Sometimes better to just eliminate the prospect altogether. But Donny hadn't meant to make Leo cry; he had only wanted him whole.

And maybe Leo will never forgive him (_he's just a little scared of that right now_) but Donny would do it again. He'd do it in… a heartbeat, thready, there it is… but no, the sound is Leo's and the warmth is his brother's shoulder. Good enough. Better. He eases in and closes his eyes.

When he goes, it feels like slipping into something comfortable. Don even imagines (_remember when I left home and you were sad, when I packed my bags, said I'd be back soon_) he can hear Leo telling him to be careful where he goes.

* * *

_The End_

* * *


End file.
